


Cruel Summer

by kisses_and_cookies



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Boys In Love, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, I'm Bad At Tagging, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Inspired by Music, M/M, Song: Cruel Summer (Taylor Swift)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:40:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21698635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kisses_and_cookies/pseuds/kisses_and_cookies
Summary: "And I screamed for whatever it's worthI love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?He looks up grinning like a devil"Basically, I love this song and wanted to write something based on it!Snapshots from a summer of a secret friends with benefits relationship between Harley and Peter.Here's a tiny excerpt from the first chapter:" Neither one of us say anything else after that. Not while we wait on Happy, not once he picks us up, and not when we get back to my apartment. There’s nothing left to say that won’t get us in trouble."
Relationships: Harley Keener/Peter Parker
Comments: 6
Kudos: 83





	1. Fever dream, high in the quiet of the night, you know that I caught it

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! 3 things:  
> 1) Their aged up in this, like early 20s!  
> 2) I have this all written- I'm going to try and post it before my computer dies  
> 3) I love Taylor Swift

“Peter”

I turn around to see Harley. What’s he doing here? The last time I saw him— and if I’m honest, I have no idea how long ago that was— he’d told me there was no way in hell he was going to be caught dancing in this club. And no matter how much pleading and cajoling I did, he remained resolute in his answer, so I joined the throng of people alone. I had a free night and I wasn’t going to waste it by sitting at the bar. 

It’s not that I don’t like being Spider-Man, in fact, I love it! It’s just really nice to occasionally be Peter Parker and live a semi-normal life. So, I’d danced and danced and danced and let the beat carry away everything that I wanted to forget.

If Harley’s on the dance floor, then he’s going to dance, so I grab him by the hand and pull him in close, the people around us pushing us closer and closer together. I can’t say that I mind the feel of Harley’s body against mine, actually, I kind of really like it. I close my eyes and let the beat wash over us, reveling in the feel of it bumping through my chest and the solid feel of Harley in front of me. After I don’t even know how many songs (they all sound the same to me) pass before the heat of Harley disappears and I feel a hand wrap around my wrist and pull me. I open my eyes to see Harley pointing to the back of the club and I let him pull me in that direction, curious about where we’re going. 

After we’ve pushed our way through the press of bodies, Harley keeps pulling me until we’re in the darkest corner of the back of the club. Before I can ask why he brought us here, he has me pressed against the wall and is kissing me. I can feel the exposed brick wall dig into my back, but as quickly as I feel it, it’s lost to the sensation of kissing Harley. I hadn’t really thought about kissing Harley before this moment. I mean, objectively, I’d thought he was attractive when Mr. Stark introduced us and told me he would be helping work on the Spider-Man suit. We’d become fast friends after spending so many nights working on fixing the suit I had managed to destroy. But friends is all we’ve ever been. Now that he’s kissed me, I don’t think I’m going to be able to stop thinking about it. His lips are soft and he tastes like tequila. He must have been doing shots of it. I grab him by the waist and pull him in closer, trying to close any space there is between us. Harley has his hands in my hair and when I pull him closer, he tugs on it. God, this is so much better than being friends.

Far too soon, Harley pulls back, letting his hands fall from my hair before he grabs two handfuls of my shirt. “Hang on. Fuck.” There’s something on his face that I can’t place. Maybe it’s regret. Maybe he was drunk and realized that he didn’t actually want to kiss me. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Harley?”

“Shit. Pete…”

“What?”

“Robby.”

“No, we just decided I’m Peter. How much have you had to drink?”

He lets out a snort. “No, Robby, as in my boyfriend.”

Oh, right. He had a boyfriend back in Tennessee. I think he mentioned something about it in his first few days here, but he hadn’t mentioned him since. “Oh, I forgot about him.”

Harley lets out a sigh and closes his eyes, leaning his forehead against mine. “Yeah, I did too. Damn. I really want to keep kissing you.”

I can’t stop the smile that breaks out across my face. “Yeah? That’s good news, because I want to keep kissing you.”

He nods and our noses bump together. “Okay, so let’s just… let’s just keep kissing then.” 

When he leans in to give me another kiss, I pull back as far as I can. I might want to keep kissing Harley, but I’m not doing it while he’s still got a boyfriend. “Do you really want to be that kind of guy?”

He lets out another sigh and I feel it brush across my cheeks. “Yes. No. Maybe?” I quirk an eyebrow at him because I know he doesn’t. “No, I don’t, you’re right.”

I push off the wall, moving him gently out of the way. “Let’s just go home then. You can stay at my apartment if you want, since it’s closer than yours.”

He doesn’t say anything, just nods and pulls me towards the back door of the club by the hand. 

The thing about being close to Tony Stark is that the media thinks they have a right to every part of your life. Ever since the media found out that Harley was Mr. Stark’s intern and I was as close as a son to him last year, they’ve done their best to ruin our lives. They have dug so deep into our lives that I’m not sure there isn’t anything they haven’t turned up yet. They have spent the last year relentlessly hounding me with questions and cameras. I had moved to a new apartment in Queens, thinking it would help. It hadn’t. It probably also hadn’t helped that I was already a semi public figure being a photographer and occasional journalist for the Daily Bugle.

The media is always trying to come up with some new article about me. They come with gossip and opinions about me, the things I do, the people I hang out with. It’s exhausting. And I never get a break from it because not only do they have an opinion on me, but they also have one on Spider-Man. I mean, Jameson calls me a menace on an almost daily basis at this point. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, but no matter how many times it happens, it still hurts.

If I’m not careful, the media will have all my personal information out to the entirety of New York City. I mean, just a couple of months ago, a taxi driver gave away my apartment address and it’s been a nightmare ever since. Almost every night there’s reporters and bloggers hanging around, trying to catch me unawares doing something scandal worthy. After that, Mr. Stark had insisted on getting me a personal driver. I’d tried to tell him that the damage had already been done and tell him that I really didn’t need on, but he’s a stubborn man. I have Happy now and he’s a great guy, so I don’t mind that he drives me around. I give him a call when I get to the alleyway. 

“Happy said he’d be here in a couple of minutes.”

“You know, for someone named Happy, that guy is anything but.”

I laugh because it’s mostly true. He is happy, he just has a weird way of showing it. “It’s why we love him.”

After that, we stand in silence and it’s unbearable. It’s the kind of silence that is deafening, louder than any noise could ever be. There’s a tension between us now and I swear I could cut through it. I can’t stand it, so I ask “Why’d you do it?”

Harley turns toward me, leaning his side and head against the brick wall. “Do what?” I give him a look, one that says you know exactly what I’m talking about. He shrugs. “I wanted to. I saw you out on the dance floor and, god, you looked so hot. And then, I saw you dancing with someone else and it pissed me off. After a couple of shots, I realized I was mad because I was jealous. I wanted to be the one you were dancing with. So, I did something about it. And then while we were dancing, I realized I really wanted to kiss you, so I did.”

I scrunch my nose at him. I can testify that there was no way that I looked hot out on the dance floor. I might have enhanced abilities as Spider-Man, but they, in no way, make me a more coordinated dancer. “You thought that was hot? I probably looked like a fish out of water, just flopping around out there.”

He pushes off the wall and drags a hand across his face. “Look, I didn’t really care how you were dancing. You looked so… happy and carefree while you were out there.” He steps closer to me and brushes his thumb across my cheek. I know I should stop him, but I don’t. “And your cheeks were so flushed.” He brushes a hand through my hair. “And your hair stuck to your forehead with sweat and it was starting to curl up at the back.” He boxes me in, placing a hand on either side of my head. I really should tell him to stop. “And I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like, what it would look like, if you were like that because of me. What you would look like underneath me, your hair a mess because of my hands, sweaty, your face all flushed. The things that I want to do to you right now, Peter Parker.”

I suppress the shiver that tries to run down my spine and clear my throat, afraid that if I don’t my voice won’t come out as strong as I need it to be. “Harley, you can’t say things like that.” I wish he could. I wish he could do more than just tell me, that he could show me. “You have a boyfriend.”

Just like I knew he would, he takes a few steps back, putting a respectable distance between us. “I don’t want to have a boyfriend.”

“I don’t want you to have a boyfriend either, but you do.”

Harley wraps me in a hug, it’s not enough, not what I want, but it’s the only thing I’m going to get. Neither one of us say anything else after that. Not while we wait on Happy, not once he picks us up, and not when we get back to my apartment. There’s nothing left to say that won’t get us in trouble.


	2. We Say that we’ll just screw it up in these trying times, we’re not trying

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi again! This chapter is from Harley's perspective :)

A loud, incessant vibrating sound wakes me up and I roll over to grab my phone off the night stand to shut it off. Instead of rolling to the edge of the bed, I roll off the side, smacking my foot on the way down. “Ow. What the hell?”

I sit up, trying to figure out what I smashed my foot into, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes as I do. Right. I spent the night on Peter’s couch. I can feel a small hangover start pounding behind my eyes. I hadn’t had that much to drink last night, just enough to make me a bit tipsy. Enough to give me the courage to kiss Peter and talk to him in the alleyway like I had. I might have been a tipsy, but I don’t regret it. Maybe I should. I don’t. Kissing Peter had been like taking a breath of fresh air, felt like being set free after a life of captivity. It was intoxicating. It had been nothing like what kissing Robby had felt like.

Right. Robby. My boyfriend. We’ve been dating for couple months now, honestly, I don’t remember exactly how many. I should have broken up with him when Tony called me about taking this internship with him in New York. Robby had said he didn’t mind long distance before I’d even gotten the chance to break up with him and after he mentioned it I didn’t have the heart to do it anymore, so I said okay. I should have just broken up with him. I should have done it as soon as I got here and realized that I was never going to want to make it work with him. 

I can hear Peter banging around in the kitchen, so I make my way there, searching out coffee like a moth to light. I swipe open my phone on the way, trying to find out why it was buzzing so much. It’s all texts and calls from Robby. The first text is a picture of me and Peter hugging from last night. Well, you can’t tell it’s Peter from this angle. We got lucky, honestly, we should have been more careful. Someone must have seen me in the alleyway and wanted to make a quick buck on a tabloid picture. The picture is followed by a string of texts:

**Robbs:** Are you cheating on me?

 **Robbs:** Is this that Peter guy who’s all over your Instagram??

**Robbs:** Harley?! Why aren’t you answering me?

I don’t read anymore after that. I also don’t look up when I hear Peter say good morning. He’s way too damn chipper in the morning. No body should be that happy until they’ve had at least 2 cups of coffee. Speaking of coffee, there’s a cup of it on the counter and I swipe it while Peter’s back is to me. 

“Hey, thats mine!”

My voice is still rough from sleep when I reply, “Not anymore.” before going back to the living room to text back Robby. 

**Harley:** Can we not do this right now?

Before I have a chance to set down my phone, it’s vibrating with a call. I do not want to deal with this right now. “I haven’t even finished a cup of coffee yet, Robby.”

“Look, I just want some answers. What was that picture about?”

I let out a sigh. This is getting old. Every time a picture of me pops up somewhere, he needs an explanation about who I was with and what I was doing. “My friend was having a rough night and I was giving him a hug, alright?” Not technically the truth, but also not a complete lie.

“Oh, are you sure that was it?”

“Hey, do you want some breakfast?” I look up at Peter, nod yes and mouth a thank you at him.

Who was that? Was it Peter?” Robby has always been a little possessive, even when I was with him in Tennessee. I probably should have seen this coming. 

“Yes. I stayed over at his place last night because it was closer than going back to mine.” 

“Are you sure that’s it? Because if it wan’t, then-”

“Look, Robby, if you don’t trust me and you’re not going to believe me when I tell you something then I don’t think this is going to work out.”

Robby doesn’t say anything. How did he not see this coming? I switch the phone to my other ear and take a sip of coffee while I wait for him to respond. Peter puts way too much creamer in his coffee. It’s too sweet. I take another sip anyway because I really need some coffee. I listen to Peter humming in the kitchen while I wait on Robby to say something. 

When Robby responds, it’s quiet and I can barely hear him. “What are you saying?”

Peter walks into the room, carrying two bowls and my stomach rumbles— I don’t remember the last time I ate. “I’m saying, I think we should break up. I can’t do this anymore it’s exhausting. I can’t defend myself to you every second of every day. So, this is goodbye.”

I hang up the phone before he can try and convince me otherwise. Not that it would have worked, I just don’t want to listen to it. That probably makes me an asshole, but right at this moment, I can’t bring myself to care. Peter hands me a bowl once I’ve put my phone down and I huff out a laugh. Of course he would have Froot Loops. We eat in silence. It’s not awkward, but it’s also not comfortable. There’s a tension around us and it scratches at my skin. 

Peter finally breaks the silence, thank god, because I have no idea what to say. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I shrug and put my bowl on the table. When I look back at Peter, he’s still staring at me. “Not much to talk about. I’m not surprised it happened and I’m not really upset about it either.”

“So… what does this mean?”

I’m not exactly sure what he’s asking. Does he mean for me? For us? I think back to last night, to watching him dance, dancing with him, kissing him, what it felt like to just be so close to him. “It means that I’d like to kiss you again.”

“Hang on. You didn’t break up with your boyfriend just so you could kiss me again, did you?”

I snort at the accusation and see Peter’s cheeks turn a light pink. He’s so pretty like that. “No.” A lie. Okay, maybe not an outright lie, but also not the truth. I probably wouldn’t have actually broken up with Robby if it wasn’t for Peter. I probably would have just kept going on how we were, not talking to each other. It wasn’t much of a relationship anyway. “I haven’t talked to Robby in a week. It was time that I ended it with him, it was never going to work out anyway.” A pause. “Can I kiss you again?”

Peter sets his bowl down on the table and I can see him thinking. “Just one kiss? Or like, you want to kiss me whenever? More than a kiss? What do you want?”

Oh. I hadn’t really thought much past Peter’s lips on mine. What do I want? What do I say that doesn’t mess this, whatever it is, or our friendship up? Probably the truth, I guess. “I think… I don’t think I want another relationship right now. I know I said I wasn’t upset about breaking up with Robby, and I’m not, I just think that I need a minute to process it. And I’ve been really busy working with Tony, which is why things didn’t workout— I didn’t really have time for a relationship. So…” I don’t really know how to end that without it sounding like I’m propositioning him for sex. 

“I don’t really think I can commit to anything either. Between Spider-Man and working at the Daily Bugle. I can’t be there for someone else. I can barely be there for me. So, you want like a no strings attached, friends with benefits type of thing?”

I nod and see Peter’s shoulders relax. “We’re not going to try because we’ll just fuck it up. Let’s just have some fun, then, yeah?”

Peter flashes a smile at me before he grabs the front of my shirt and pulls me in for a kiss. Kissing Peter might be my new favorite hobby.


	3. I Snuck in through the garden gate, every night that summer just to seal my fate

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we, maybe, keep this a secret?”

I turn my head away from the tv to look up at Harley from my place on his chest. “How do you mean?” It’s not like I had plans to run around town, letting every gossip news sight in town know about my sex life. 

Harley skims his fingers over my skin and down my spine, flattening his hand against the small of my back. “I just mean… People already ship us, you know? And like, I just broke up with Robby last week. And I told him so many times that we were just friends and that he didn’t need to worry. And we are just friends, but now we’re friends that sleep together? Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I think it would be better if the media didn’t get ahold of the fact that I’m at your apartment at weird hours?”

I hum to let him know I understand. And I do. If the media even got a sniff of the fact that he was coming and going from my apartment in the middle of the night they would have a field day. It would become a whole Thing and that is not what this is supposed to be. Neither one of us wanted a relationship in the first place and the media would try to force one on us. 

I don’t know what I would have done if Harley had wanted a relationship. I told him I didn’t want one because I didn’t have time for one which is true, but it’s also not the whole truth. Being in a relationship with me also means being in one with Spider-Man and I don’t want to put anyone through that. He would have to deal with me coming home with stab wounds and bullet holes and sometimes smelling like trash. He’d have to deal with me skipping out at the drop of a hat, not knowing when I was going to be home or if I was even going to make it home. That’s the worst part. Forcing someone to worry that I’m not going to make it home every time I walk out the door. 

I let out a small sigh, forcing my focus back to the conversation we’re having. “Okay. There’s a parking garage under my building. You can come in through there and no one will know you’re here. I can give you my code too, so you can come by without me having to let you in.”

“Yeah? Thank you.”

In response, I reach up and place a kiss under his jaw and slip my hand under his shirt, lightly scratching at his side. Faster than I would have thought possible, Harley flips us over so that he’s hovering above me.

“You know, we’re supposed to be watching Netflix.”

“New plan.”

And I let Harley distract me from the tv, from life. My life can only be caterigized as a disaster, but in these moments I can let it all fade away. That’s what we are to each other, a distraction. When he touches me, he’s the only thing I can think about: the way his hands feel on my body, the way his lips feel on mine, the way he sounds, the way he smells. It’s all so undeniably Harley. He is the perfect distraction. 

**************

The sleeves of my sweatshirt keep falling over my hands, making it impossible to get anything done. I push the sleeves up and try to focus on the schematics Mr. Stark sent me. Logically, I know I could just change into a smaller sweatshirt, but I really want to wear this one. Harley left it at my apartment last week and I haven’t given it back yet. I love how big it is on me and that it smells like Harley— a bit like oil and sandalwood. It’s comforting.

It doesn’t really smell like him anymore, but it reminds me of him all the same and I’ve kind of been missing him. I haven’t seen him in a couple of days— he hasn’t been over to my house, he wasn’t in the lab when I stopped by, hasn’t responded to any of the texts I sent. Is he mad at me? Did I do something wrong? Is he okay?

I push up the sleeves of my sweater again. This is useless, I’m not getting any work done. I set the tablet I was working on down and run a hand through my hair. I should just go over to his apartment to make sure he’s okay, right? 

No, I’m sure if he wasn’t fine Mr. Stark would tell me. And I’ve only been over to his apartment once and it was only so he could pick something up. I don’t even know if I can remember how to get there. And what if the media picked up that I was over at his house this late, what would they say?

There are so many reasons that I shouldn’t go over there, that I should just send him another text. Except he hasn’t responded to any of the previous ones, what would make this one different? Despite all the reasons I shouldn’t go, I find myself changing sweatshirts, I don’t want Harley to know that I have his— he’ll want it back, grabbing my keys, and walking out the door.

It doesn’t take me long to find Harley’s apartment building and before I know it, I’m knocking on his front door. I twirl my keys around in my hand, trying to keep busy while I wait for him to answer the door. When he finally does, I let out a sigh of relief that he actually answered. 

His eyes are watery, his face is flushed, his nose is red, like he’s rubbed it raw, and he’s got a comforter around his shoulders. When he speaks, his voice comes out hoarse and cracks halfway through my name. “Peter?”

I push the door open, forcing my way in. “Well, you look like shit.” He lets out a small laugh that turns into a coughing fit and I cringe because it sounds painful. I put a hand to his forehead, finding it warmer than it should be. “You’re sick?”

It’s a stupid question. Obviously, he is. He doesn’t respond, flopping back on the couch. He’s been there all day, if the tissues littering the floor and coffee table are any indication. A quick inspection shows there aren’t any cups or bowls lying around or in the kitchen sink. “Have you eaten today?”

A muffled “Not hungry.” sounds from somewhere in the pile of blankets that contains Harley. 

I let out a sigh, heading into the kitchen and filling up a glass of water. When I get back into the living room, I gently sit Harley up and try to coax him out of his blankets. “Harls. I need you to drink this, okay.”

“Not thirsty.”

I set the drink down on the table. “I’m going to go get some medicine and some soup from the store. When I get back, that water better be gone.”

“Not hungry.”

“Okay, but at least drink a little bit, please?”

When I get back from the store, equipped with anything and everything I think I might need, the glass of water is empty and he’s sitting up, watching The Great British Bake Off. “Feel Better?”

He looks like he’s getting ready to say something before a coughing fit seizes him.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

I spend the next hour making Harley eat soup and drink water before he falls asleep with his head in my lap. When he does, I carry him into his room and wrap him up in blankets. I place a glass of water on his night stand and a note to let him know I’m out in the living room if he needs anything. Then, I clean up the living room before settling in for a fitful night of sleep on the couch. I don’t want to leave Harley, in case he needs something in the middle of the night. 

**************

I put down the wrench I’ve been working with and look at the clock. The sight of it sends me into a bit of a shock. We’ve been in the lab for 8 hours now. Tony and Pepper left on a vacation a couple of days ago and Tony left the lab open for us to work in. Along with a couple of projects to work on. He thought we’d break stuff just to figure out if we could fix it without something to work on. I’d tried to tell him he was wrong. Peter had said he was right— what a traitor. 

I rub at my eyes. Now that I’ve stopped working, I can feel those hours sink, like a weight, onto my shoulders. We should probably eat. I look over at Peter, who’s still completely absorbed in his work and let my eyes wander over him. I linger on his soft hair and the tiny bit of skin that peeks out from under his shirt when he leans forward. I absolutely do not regret kissing him at that club. How could I when I’m now quite acquainted with the sight of him flushed, hair sticking to his forehead, and out of breath because of me. I had been right that night, he really is beautiful like that. 

Thinking about it has me walking over to Peter and wrapping my arms around his waist, leaning my chin on his shoulder. I can feel him sigh but keep working. I place a kiss to his neck, trying to get him to pay attention to me.

“Harls, I need to finish this upgrade on my suit.” I love it when he calls me Harls. I have no idea when he started it up, sometime in the last couple of weeks, I assume.

“Yeah, but you’ve been working for 8 hours already. And besides, I technically still have a room here. We could put it to use.” I place a kiss behind his ear and one on his jaw. When Peter sets down what he’s working on, I smile against his jaw, knowing I’ve won.

He turns around, wrapping his arms around my neck. “Better make this worth my time, Keener.”

“That sounds like a challenge I’m willing to accept.” I unwrap his arms from around my neck and drag him to the elevator. When the door shuts behind us, I have him pressed against the wall. No time to waste if I’m going to make it worth his time. I kiss him like it’s the last time I’ll ever have the chance. And maybe it will be. This thing between us isn’t a given. He can end it whenever he wants. I can to, I guess, but I won’t, not anymore. Peter has carved out a little niche in my life and now I couldn’t imagine it without him. The thought has me pushing closer to him, crowding him closer to the wall. I break our kiss so I can leave kisses along his neck. I push my hands under his shirt, rucking it up so I can run my hands along his chest, his abs, everywhere. Touching Peter is like a drug, the more I touch him, the more I want to. 

I lean forward more, if it’s even possible, placing my mouth right next to his ear and let my warm breath wash across his ear when I talk. “I’m going to have you shouting so loud you’ll be hoarse. Will that make it worth your time?”

**************

I look through the dirty laundry scattered across my floor one last time, then tear through my closet and dresser. Where is it? My sweatshirt has been missing for a while now. I don’t even remember the last time I had it. I thought I had it over a Peter’s apartment, but when I asked him about it he said he didn’t know what I was talking about. 

I slam the last drawer closed. I swear I had it at Peter’s. I snatch my phone off my bed and FaceTime him. As soon as he answers I find it because he’s _wearing_ it.

“Hey Harley, whats up?”

“Fuck you, Peter.”

A shocked look crosses his face before it morphs into a grin. “Yeah, you do. Is that what this is about?”

I open and close my mouth, trying to think of something to say and he lets out a ringing laugh. “Seriously, what did you need?”

“I thought you didn’t know where my sweatshirt was?”

He shrugs his shoulders, looking at something I can’t see off screen. “I don’t.”

“Dumb. Ass.” HIs eyes snap back to the screen and it’s my turn to let out a laugh at the look on his face. “You’re wearing it. I’ve been tearing my apartment apart looking for that thing.”

He looks down and his cheeks stain the cutest color of pink. I love it when he blushes like that, it’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. “Oooohhhhh. I didn’t know you meant this one.”

It’s a lie. I know it is. “I’m coming over to get it.”

“Harley. It’s like 2 in the morning, you can’t walk around the—”

“Peter”

“What?”

“You’re a shit head.” And then I hang up the phone. If he thinks I’m joking, he’s got another thing coming. I swipe another sweater off the floor and give it a sniff. It doesn’t smell dirty, so I slip it on, grab my keys and walk out the door. 

15 minutes later, I’m knocking on Peter’s door. Seeing him in my sweater over FaceTime is one thing, but it’s another to see him in it in person. The sleeves are way too long, hanging past his hands and swallowing his frame. The sweatshirt is big on me, but it’s huge on him. It’s the most adorable thing I have ever seen. I think I might start leaving my clothes here more often if he’s going to look that cute wearing them.

“You know, if you wanted my sweatshirt, you could have just asked.”

“I didn’t want it. You just left it here and it was comfortable.” He shrugs.

I put my hand out and make a grabbing motion with it. “okay, then give it back.”

“Nope.” He pops the p and between that and the huge sweater he’s wearing he looks like a child. 

I take another step closer to him and he takes a step back this time. I keep walking forward, backing him up against the wall. “Pete. I’m going to get that sweatshirt back.”

“Mmmm. I don’t think so.” There’s a challenge in the mischievous glint of his eyes. 

Well, I’m not one to back down from a challenge. I step closer, leaning down until our lips brush. “We’ll see about that.” 

I kiss him before he can say anything else, trying to distract him. At this point, I don’t really want the sweatshirt back, it looks way better on him than it does on me. I just want to see if I can get it back. I slip my hands under the sweater, pushing it up so I can run my hands along his chest. I start kissing behind his ear, kissing down his neck. When i get to the edge of the sweater I push it out of the way and kiss a little further down before pushing my hands further up his chest. He pulls back from me long enough for me to push the sweatshirt over his head. As soon as I have the sweater in my hands I step back even further and quickly yank off the sweater I have on before putting the other one on. When I’m done, I toss the other one at him, hitting him in the face with it. 

“ _Harley_. That wasn’t fair!”

I put on the most innocent face I can manage. “What do you mean?”

He puts on the sweatshirt I gave him. “You distracted me!”

“I didn’t see you complaining.” I walk over to his couch and flop down on it. “Now, it’s almost 3 am and as someone once tried to tell me, I shouldn’t be out this late. Plus, we never got to finish The Great British Bake Off when I was sick.”

I move my feet, making room for him to sit on the other end of the couch. He sits down with a sigh and I place my feet in his lap. He turns on Netflix with a mumble.

“What was that? I can’t hear you.” I smirk at him because I know I wasn’t supposed to hear what he was saying. 

“I said that you’re insufferable.” I let out a laugh as GBBO starts playing. 

This sweatshirt might be mine, but it smells undeniably like Peter. I bury myself deeper into the sweatshirt, letting the smell of him wrap around me like a blanket. I must fall asleep like that because I wake up the next morning with a blanket tucked around me and a pillow under my head that I don’t remember getting.


	4. I Said I was Fine, but it wasn’t true

All I want to do is eat a bowl of ice cream and watch something trashy on Netflix. I’ve been over at May’s all day, helping her re-arrange her apartment and I am exhausted. You’d think being Spider-Man, I wouldn’t be, but you try moving furniture around all day by yourself and then tell me you aren’t tired. As soon as I’ve got a bowl of ice cream and a spoon, I hear the front door open and I let out a sigh. I just want to be left alone right now. There’s only one person that could be unless I’m about to be robbed.

“Peter?” Not being robbed then.

“In the kitchen!” I turn around when I hear Harley come in and the sight of him has the rest of the day washing away into concern for him. He looks distraught. His eyes are red and still shimmering with tears he hasn’t shed. “Harls, are you alright?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead he closes the distance between us and kisses me. Hard. I think my lips might bruise from it. It’s all I can do to set my ice cream down. The kiss is desperate, like he needs this more than he needs oxygen. He presses close to me, blocking me against the counter and I bury my hands in his hair, feeling the soft strands between my fingers. 

Only when the kiss starts to taste like salt water do I remember that Harley had looked upset when he came in. I pull back as far as I can, which admittedly isn’t far and when I talk, my lips brush against his. “Harley, are you okay?”

He leans his forehead against mine. “Fine.”

I brush our noses together. I have no idea how to handle this. Harley is obviously not fine, but is it my place to point that out? Carefully, I ask, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I just want you to kiss me.” With that, he closes the small distance between us and kisses me.

I don’t let it last long before I pull back again. If he’s really this upset, then I don’t think this is a good idea. “I think-”

I don’t get a chance to finish my thought because Harley is kissing me again. This boy is stubborn. When I pull back this time, I grab ahold of his waist and twist around, setting him on the counter, next to the ice cream I’ve forgotten about.

“I don’t know what you’re going through, but whatever it is, I don’t think this is a healthy way to deal with it.”

“I don’t care if it’s healthy.” I take a step back, to put a little distance between us. I don’t get very far before he has a fistful of my shirt. Harley lets out a sigh and I search his face for answers to questions I’m too afraid to ask. “I need- Can you- I just want— kiss me. Please.”

It’s the please that breaks me. It sounds broken, nothing like the Harley that I’m used to. Looking at him, I know he’s not going to talk about it, doesn’t want to think about it. And if he doesn’t want to, then I’m not going to push him on it. So, I settle between his legs, feel them wrap around my waist. I take one last look at him before I’m pulling him down by the back of the neck to kiss him. If he wants to forget about whatever it is, then I’m going to make him forget everything but my name.

I wake up and without opening my eyes I can see that it’s light outside. I should probably get up. I don’t want to, so I snuggle into my pillow, willing myself to go back to sleep. I focus on the heartbeat under my head, letting it lull me into sleep. Wait. My pillow shouldn’t have a heartbeat. I crack open an eye to see a chest that I know belongs to Harley.

This is new. We’ve been sleeping together for most of the summer at this point, but it’s never turned into an overnight stay before. I mean, we’ve stayed over at each other’s apartments, but never like this, never even in the same bed. Does this mean something different? Do I want it to? I should probably pretend to go back to sleep and let Harley decide how to handle it. I’m still trying to decide what to do when I feel the arm around me tighten and a yawn come from the boy its attached to.

“Morning.” Harley’s voice is rough from sleep and I don’t think it’s hot. I don’t. I let out a sound that I’m not sure is entirely human and bury my head in his neck. I do not want to get up yet. I feel Harley clear his throat and when he talks, his voice comes out clear. “Um, hey, I’m sorry about last night.”

I push up, so that I can look at him properly and I feel my face flush at the bruises I see littered across his chest. I’m not sorry about last night. “What are you sorry for? That you came over here?”

He doesn’t answer right away, so I flop back down onto my pillow and turn to look at him, ready to wait as long as I have to for him to decide he’s ready to talk. He’s quiet for long enough that I don’t think he’s going to say anything. He turns toward me, placing a hand on my hip and rubbing his thumb back and forth across my hip bone. “I was a mess and I really shouldn’t have made you deal with it. It’s just… I, um, came out to my mom yesterday. And well she didn’t take it too well. And I was upset and I came over here and I probably shouldn’t have, so I’m sorry.”

The admission takes me by surprise. I had just assumed everyone knew. “There’s no need to be sorry. I’m sorry you had to go through that.” I wish I could have been there through the whole thing so he wouldn’t have had to deal with it alone. 

“You were the first person I ever actually told. I mean, obviously Robby knew. But like, we just got drunk at a party and started making out one night, so… yeah. And I came out to Tony after talking to you because I knew he wouldn’t care. But I never told my mom because I was afraid of what she would think, that she might hate me. I guess I was right to be afraid, because it didn’t go well. At all.”

“Oh, Harls, I’m so sorry.” I wish I could take the hurt away. The closest I can do is wrap him in a hug and hold him close. So, I do. I wish that we could stay like this forever, that I could wake up to Harley every morning because I love his hair in the morning. I love the sound of his voice and I love the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. I love when he’s on the phone with his sister because big brother Harley is different from the one that I know, but I love him all the same. Fuck. I’m in love with Harley. Thinking about it only confirms it more and I think I’ve been in love with him for a while now, I just didn’t want to admit it. They say a lobster doesn’t realize it’s boiling until it’s too late. I think falling in love with Harley was a little bit like that. I fell slowly, slowly until there was no turning back. And if I’m not careful with it, it’s going to burn not just me, but Harley too. I think it’s best for everyone if I tuck this love away, where it can’t hurt anyone. 

His phone starts beeping from somewhere on the floor, snapping me back to reality, and he untangles himself to reach for it. “Shit. It’s Tony. I was supposed to be at the tower 30 minutes ago.”

I sit up, letting the sheets pool around my waist and watch Harley look around for his clothes that are scattered across the floor. I can’t help but feel like there is more to this conversation, but I can see Harley is done talking about it, so I don’t say anything.

*************

I look at my phone again. The clock on it reads 2:02am. Only one minute has passed since I last checked. I toss it to the other end of the couch. I thought Peter would be home by now. He said he’d be home around 1:30. The Chinese take out I brought is sitting on the coffee table, getting cold. I know he never has anything to eat in his apartment except cereal and ice cream and thought he could probably do with a real meal for once in his life. It doesn’t matter now I guess, it’s not worth eating.

Where is he?

I should probably leave, right? It’s weird to hang out in his apartment when he’s not here. I should put the food in the fridge for him to find when he comes home and leave. I don’t. I need to make sure he’s okay, even if it means I’ll be sitting on this damn couch until morning.

I don’t know how much longer I sit there, but it feels like an eternity, before I hear Peter’s bedroom window slide open and shut. Without thinking, I’m up and rushing into the other room. I push the door open to find Spider-Man leaning against the wall by the window.

“Harley, what are you doing here?”

Now that he’s asking, I don’t know what to say. What can I say without sounding creepy or depraved. The truth is probably as good as it’s going to get. “I brought you some dinner? But, uh, you’re out later than you said you’d be. I got worried, so I was waiting for you to get back.”

“Oh, you could have just called me.”

Stupid. I am so fucking stupid. I feel my face flush. “I didn’t think about that.”

Peter lets out a laugh. “Ah, technology, only as useful as the person who wields it.”

“Watch it, Parker. I’m still smarter than you.”

He shakes his head and pushes off the wall, making his way across the room. “Sorry about being late, but I ran into a little trouble on my way home.” He lifts the hand I hadn’t realized was pressed against his side. It comes away red, slick with blood.

I rush forward and hover in front of him like an idiot, not sure what to do. “Fuck, Peter. What should I do? Call an ambulance? Let Tony know?”

He shrugs like he isn’t about to bleed to death. “No, we wrap it and let it heal. It’s not like I was actually stabbed, the knife just grazed me, really.”

He walks past me and into the bathroom where he starts shedding his suit. He’s careful about not getting blood anywhere and it looks like a practiced routine. “What do you mean: it’s not like you were stabbed? Have you been stabbed before?”

He walks past me and into the bathroom where he starts shedding his suit. He’s careful about not getting blood anywhere and it looks like a practiced routine. “What do you mean: it’s not like you were stabbed? Have you been stabbed before?”

He lets out a sigh and leans against the sink. “Can we not have this conversation right now?” It’s the exact same thing I said to Robby a couple months ago and it’s like a slap to the face. I can’t help the hurt from flitting across my face. “I just mean, I smell like garbage and I’m covered in blood. Can I shower and then we can talk about it?”

I nod before leaving him to clean up. I’m back where I was ten minutes ago, waiting… waiting… felling useless, the Chinese food’s definitely cold now. The only thing I can think about is the blood on his hand, that he gets hurt while out there saving people. How many times has he gotten hurt and I didn’t know about it? I knew he did dangerous things, but knowing he does them and seeing the consequences are two totally different things.

I hear the door to the bathroom open and Peter steps out in a cloud of warm air. I love the way he smells when he gets out of the shower. I know, I know, it’s creepy, but I can’t help it. He smells clean, like soap and the coconut shampoo he uses and it’s so Peter. He sits on the couch and I try not to be obvious at the fact that I took a deep breath just to breathe in the smell of him. 

He grabs a container of food, oblivious to the fact that I’m being a freak and I scrunch my nose at him. I hate cold food. “Aren’t you going to heat that up?”

Around a mouthful of food, he says, “Why? It tastes fine like this.” He takes another bite. What a monster. “Alright, you want to talk about it?”

Right. “Does this happen a lot?”

He nods. “Yeah. I mean, it doesn’t happen, like all the time, but it happens enough that it’s not that big of a deal.”

How do you respond to someone who so casually brushes off being stabbed? Also, how have I not noticed any evidence that it happens? “Okay… how come I’ve never noticed any wounds or scars or bruises? I mean, I’ve seen you naked for fucks sake.”

I watch a blush crawl up the back of his neck before spreading across his cheeks. He empties the carton of food he’s eating before he responds. “Oh. When I was bit by the spider, part of the deal was super healing, I guess is what you’d call it. They all heal quickly and don’t leave scars or anything.”

I don’t respond right away, still trying to wrap my head around all of this. Peter gets up and takes everything into the kitchen. I hear the fridge open and close and Peter filling a glass with water. When he comes back into the room, he sits next to me, closer than he was before. Our thighs are pressed together and I can feel his arm against mine. 

“Does it scare you? That I get hurt sometimes?”

How do I answer that? Is it my place to get scared by it? “Of course it scares me How could it not.” I look down at my hands, folded in my lap, not able to look at Peter. “It hadn’t really occurred to me that you might get hurt. Like, I knew that you went out and saved people and logically that means you’d get hurt, but I just never thought about it, I guess.”

“Don’t think about it. It makes the worrying worse.” He turns toward me and I let him pull me in for a kiss. “Better yet, don’t think, just kiss me.”

And I do. I push him back onto the couch and kiss him. I kiss him because it’s my favorite thing to do and I touch him because I love the sounds that he makes when I do and I love the way his skin feels against mine. When his shirt finally comes off, I see the bandage on his side, reminding me that I should be careful, gentle. I sit back on his thighs.

“What? Is something wrong?”

I shake my head, let my hand hover over his bandage, too afraid to touch it. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not going to.” I still don’t touch him. “Harls, touch me, please.” What if I hurt him? He grabs my hands and place them on his body. He puts one right on the bandage and he doesn’t seem to be in pain when he presses on it. “Don’t be afraid to hurt me. Don’t be gentle with me or treat me like I’m fragile. I don’t want you walking on egg shells around me.”

I search his face for any sign he’s lying, but come up empty, so I lean in and kiss him. I stop thinking about everything except the boy under my hands, the sounds he makes, the feel of my lips on his skin.


	5. And If I Bleed, You’ll Be the Last to Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you if your still here! <3  
> There's just this chapter and one more left

_“Peter, we can’t keep doing this.” I try to keep my face neutral. It’s hard when one of my greatest fears is to hear Harley say those words, but I can’t let him see how much this affects me. “I can’t do it. Not anymore.”_

_  
_

_I nod my head. I don’t trust myself to speak. I turn away from him, looking out the window. I don’t want to see his face while he tells me this, see how little he cares. There are people out walking in the sunshine, children laughing. It makes me hurt even more, to see these people out enjoying the day. They don’t know that my life is crushing down around me._

_“Pete? I just can’t watch you walk out that door and not know if you’re going to come home. It’s too much.” He doesn’t say anything after that and neither do I. I try my best to force back the tears that want to fall. “Why aren’t you saying anything?”_

_I try to force my face back into nonchalance, set my jaw before I turn around. “Okay. We knew this wasn’t forever, right? It was just a summer fling. We were just having fun.”_

_I should have seen this coming. I should have known that Harley was going to leave. It doesn’t make it hurt any less. He nods hid head. “Exactly. Thank you for understanding.”_

_I nod my head, like he hasn’t ripped my heart out of my chest. He kisses me on the cheek before he leaves. As soon as the door is shut behind him, I let out the sob I had been forcing down. It racks my whole body and I fall onto the couch, wrapping around a pillow, wishing it was Harley_.

_I don’t ever think the pain of losing him will ever fade. I don’t think I’ll ever stop crying. It’s too painful. I should have told Harley that he had my heart, that he would always have it._

I wake myself up with a hard sob. I sit up and look around, taking in all the details I can, trying to calm my breathing and remind myself that it was just a dream, it wasn’t real. I look over at Harley, still asleep next to me. He looks so peaceful like this, his face relaxed, his hair spread out around him. I slide to the edge of the bed, easing out of it, careful not to wake him.

I make my way to the kitchen and fill a glass with water before greedily drinking it down. When I finish it, I fill it again and drink it slowly this time. I brace myself against the counter, trying to shake the dream from my mind. I can’t stop thinking about how it felt for Harley to end this—whatever it is that we have. All I know is that he’s going to have to be the one to do it, because I’m not going to. I don’t ever want it to end. I don’t think I could be just friends with him after this summer. 

Before I know it, I’m crying again. This time it’s quiet, not the loud sobs of my dream, as silent as my suffering. I don’t want to wake Harley, he can’t know about this, about how I really feel. I have no idea how long I stand there crying before I hear Harley stirring in the other room. When I hear him get up, I wipe at my eyes, trying to get rid of the evidence that I had been in here crying.

I feel arms wrap around my waist before Harley leans down and places a kiss to my neck. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah. I just had a bad dream. I’m fine.” It’s a lie. I can’t tell Harley that everyday I’m with him and he’s not mine adds another crack to my heart. And I know that it can’t be long before my heart is shattered into so many pieces it will never be able to be mended. Seeing Harley so much and not being able to tell him that I love him is going to destroy me, but I can’t let him know that.

He hums against my neck. “Want to come back to bed?”

I turn in his arms and bury my head in his chest. “Mmmkay.”

We don’t move for a while, just standing in the quiet of the kitchen. After a bit, Harley kisses me on the top of the head before untangling himself from my arms and pulling me back to bed. I snuggle in closer than I normally do, trying to enjoy the presence of him while I can.

**************

I’m sprawled across my couch, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram when it happens. And by it happens I mean that I see a photo of Peter and it instantly makes me jealous. The photo is of him, Ned, MJ, and someone I don’t know who’s kissing him on the cheek. Who is this asshole and why is he kissing Peter on the cheek?

I zoom in to get a better look at him. I mean, I guess he’s kind of cute? He has brown hair and light brown skin. He’s also wearing a polo. Who the hell wears a polo to go out to a club? I can’t help but wonder why Peter’s never told me about him. How come he hasn’t told me he was seeing someone new?

Maybe he’s just a one night stand. I don’t know which one hurts more. The fact that he’s in a new relationship or the fact that he went home with a random guy when he knows he could have just come here, to me.

I click the picture to see if he’s tagged. He is and I laugh when I see is handle— sp1dermanfan. I click through to his profile and spend way more time than I’d like to admit scrolling through his account. It’s full of pictures of him and his boyfriend. I shut my phone and toss it down next to me. 

I am such an idiot. I can’t believe I just got so jealous over a fucking picture. I press the heals of my hands into my eyes. I am so in love with Peter that I can’t even see straight. I let out a sigh when I feel tears spring to my eyes. The only thing I want is to never have to worry about someone taking him away from me. I want to be able to love him in front of everyone, not just in the quiet of our apartments. I’m basically waiting for him to end this, for him to break my heart into a million pieces, so I’ll never be able to put it back together. I’m tired of having Peter without him being mine. 

I don’t know how long I sit there crying quietly, but my phone vibrating interrupts my wallowing. I look at it and see that Peter’s FaceTiming me. I furiously wipe at my eyes, praying that it’s dark enough in here he won’t be able to see I’ve been crying. 

“Hey, what’s up?” My voice cracks and I clear it. Hopefully he won’t notice. 

I watch as his brows furrow. “Are you okay?”

I let out a shaky sigh, trying not to start crying again. He will not know that I’ve been crying about him. I put a smile on my face that I’m sure he can see right through. “yeah, what did you need?”

He shrugs. “I saw you liked my Instagram post, but I thought you said you were going to sleep early tonight, so I thought I’d call and check in, make sure you were alright.”

The fact that he cares almost has me crying again. I am such a mess. I was going to try to sleep tonight— I hadn’t gotten very much this week, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t sleep. I had laid in bed for hours, staring at the ceiling before I’d finally come out to the couch and turned on Kitchen Nightmares to fall asleep to. Obviously it hadn’t worked. It’s my turn to shrug. “Too much stress to sleep.”

“Your project?”

It’s really not what I had been stressing over, but I’m not about to tell him the real reason I was still up was him, so I nod. The project I’ve been working on for Tony hasn’t been going well and has been the source of my lack of sleep lately, just not tonight. 

“I feel like that’s not all thats bothering you. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, it’s okay. It’s almost 2 in the morning, Pete, you should get to bed.”

He doesn’t look convinced, but nods anyway. “Get some sleep okay?”

“Okay, I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

When we hang up, I turn back to the tv. I watch it without seeing anything until I hear a knock at the door. Looking through the little hole in my door has me swinging the door open.

“What are you doing here, Pete? It’s after 2?! You shouldn’t be out by yourself this late!”

He pushes past me with what looks like a pint of ice cream in his hand. A shout of “I’m Spider-Man, remember?” Follows him into the kitchen. Before I have time to follow him, he’s walking back into the room and holding out a spoon to me.

I settle in to the couch next to him, taking the ice cream he offers me. “I thought you didn’t like chocolate?”

He shrugs before taking a spoonful out of the carton. “I don’t really, but I know it’s your favorite. I mean, you once went on a twenty minute rant about how chocolate was the best ice cream and no other ice cream should even be made, so…”

He passes me the pint of ice cream. “I mean, I don’t think it was actually 20 minutes.”

“It was, I timed it.”

I feel my face heat up. “Peter, you’re a menace.”

“I mean, Jameson thinks so.”

I turn to him. I shouldn’t have said that. I know it hurts him when the Daily Bugle posts about him like that, since he’s just trying to help. “Shit. Pete, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know, I was just joking with you.” He smiles at me, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. I wish I could protect him from the world. I wish I could hide him away and never let anyone hurt him. I need to know that he knows he’s not a menace, that anyone he gives any attention to at all is lucky. And I wish I could tell him that I’m lucky and that I want to continue to be lucky for the rest of my life. 

I take another bite of ice cream and around it say, “You know you’re not a menace, right?”

This time his smile leaves a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Only for you, Harls.”

Before I have time to respond, he steals the ice cream from my hand and finishes it off. I watch him as he leans forward and places the empty container and spoons on the table. And I watch him as he settles back into the couch, grabbing the blanket thats in the basket next to the couch. When he has the blanket, he grabs me, pulling me into his chest before he tosses the blanket over us.

I really don’t know why he came over, but I’m glad he did and I’m not going to make him leave. He could stay here forever and I’d never ask him to leave. I turn my attention back to the tv, but I have no idea what’s going on anymore. I give up trying to watch it because focusing on anything when I’m this close to Peter is impossible. 

“Pete? Thank you for coming over.”

His arm tightens around me. “Of course. You looked upset when we were talking earlier, I wasn’t going to let you be alone. And if you ever want to talk about it, you can talk to me, okay?”

I snuggle in closer to his chest. “Mmkay.”

I must fall asleep because the next thing I know is waking up to the morning light, still on the couch with Peter asleep under me. I close my eyes, trying to enjoy this little bit of time that I have with him, trying to soak in every bit of him I can before he decides he’s done with me. Each time I see him is like a new cut, each one deeper than the next. And it’s killing me slowly, painfully. I must be a masochist because no matter the pain, the more I see him, the more I want him. What’s one more cut when I already have so many?


	6. I Love You, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?

I stare down at my phone, scrub at my eyes, hoping the image will miraculously disappear.

It doesn’t.

I look at it again. The image of me pulling Harley by the wrist is taking up the majority of the screen, the rest of it taken up by a headline that reads: Love at Stark Tower?

I toss my phone to the other end of the couch and stride over the window. I let the autumn wind brush across my face and take a deep breath, hoping the crisp air will clear my head. We’ve gone 3 months without people finding out. Finding out what? Harley and I aren’t anything to find out. We’re just friends. Friends who have sex, but still just friends. The picture was just me pulling Harley along at a Stark Industries event to show him something. Why had the media turned it into something it wasn’t?

It was one easy post to make light of this, say we aren’t in love, we’re just friends. Why hadn’t I done it yet? Why hadn’t Harley? This whole thing is giving me a headache.

I turn back to the room, just as the front door opens and Harley walks in. “I’m assuming you saw the headline?”

I nod and sit back on the couch, resting my head in my hands. This is a mess. How did it get so complicated? I feel the couch dip next me and a hand settles on my back, rubbing small circles.

“What do you want to do about it? We can not do anything or we can make a statement say we’re just friends, laugh it off.”

What do I want to do about it? This was supposed to be a no strings attached deal, just for fun. Somewhere along the line, I messed it all up. I fell in love with Harley. I think back to all the times we’ve woken up next to each other, the times we’ve lain around all day watching Netflix, long nights working on my suit. I’ve known I love him for a while. I’ve been trying to keep it a secret from everyone, even myself, and especially Harley. “I don’t want to tell them we’re just friends. I don’t want to have to lie and keep secrets just to have you. Harls, please don’t hate me, but…” I’m still not looking at him. It’s taking all my courage to talk, let alone look at him. “I love you. I know I wasn’t supposed to, but I do.”

He’s quiet for so long, that I chance a glance at him. I don’t know what I was expecting to see, but it’s not this. Harley is looking at me, grinning. It’s a wicked smile, sharp. I think if I were to reach out and touch it, it might cut me. It’s a smile that tells me Harley’s going to do something to get us both in trouble.

“Shit.”

“I know, isn’t it the worst thing you’ve ever heard?” I look back down, fiddling with the hem of my shirt. After a beat of silence, a hand reaches over and intertwines itself with mine and I look up to see Harley’s still grinning like a devil.

“No, Pete, it’s not the worst thing, it’s the best. I love your hands. I love your lips and the perfect smile they make. I love that you are kind and that you love with your whole heart, without fear that it will get broken.” He brushes a hair out of my face and I close my eyes. He has such a beautiful voice. I could listen to it for hours. “And, god, I love the way you smell when you get out of the shower.” I giggle because it’s a ridiculous thing to love about me. “I love you.”

I move closer to Harley, tucking my head under his chin. “Yeah?”

“Do you remember the night I spent here after I talked to my mom?” I nod. I remember it so well. I remember how broken Harley looked, how I would have set the world on fire if it meant that he would have smiled. “I loved you before that, but that was the night that I realized I did. After I got off the phone with her, I realized that there was no place I wanted to go but to you. I wanted to feel loved, like even though my mom didn’t love me anymore, someone did. And even though I didn’t know if you did love me, you made me feel loved. A single touch from you has more love in it than I thought I would get in my entire life.” He kisses the top of my head. “And that was the night I realized I was fucked because I was a goner. I love you and I don’t think I’m going to stop.”

I turn and place a kiss to his neck, thinking about that night. I think about Harley, with his head thrown back against the pillow, gasping for a breath, the way he’d said my name, like it was a secret he was whispering to the whole world. I remember waking up the next morning, seeing the marks I’d left on him the night before and thinking that I never wanted anyone else to know that version of Harley. I wanted to keep every version of Harley to myself. “Waking up with you the morning after that, I realized that you were the only person I ever wanted to wake up to and that I was in love with you and that I wasn’t allowed to be.”

We settle into a comfortable silence after that, just holding each other. It might not solve any problems, but it’s nice to know that he loves me too. It changes everything and nothing. I’m afraid of the answer to the question I’m about to ask, but I also have to ask it. “So… where do we go from here?”

I can feel Harley’s arm tighten around me and his fingers play with the hem of my shirt. When I look up, I find Harley is already staring at me. “Where do you want it to go?”

I sigh and place my head back on his shoulder. Where did I want it to go? What do I want? Those were easy questions. I want to be with Harley. I want to call him my boyfriend and go out on dates with him. I want to wake up every morning to Harely grumbling about it being too early. Yes, those were easy questions to answer, but my life isn’t that easy. I don’t get to just say that I want something and then have it. I’m not just Peter, I’m also Spider-Man. “I don’t… I don’t know. I mean, I know what I want, but I don’t know if it’s fair to want it. What do you want Harley?”

“I want whatever you’re willing to give me and not a bit more. If that means you want a relationship, you can have it. If it means that we’re just friends then that’s what we’ll be.”

“Why? Why not just tell me what you want?”

“Peter, the world demands so much of you, how can I sit here and try to take more? I want what you can give me and if that means nothing, then that’s okay.”

I rub at my eyes, trying to scrub away the tears I can feel forming. This conversation is starting to go in circles. If Harley isn’t going to tell me what he wants, then I’ll just have to tell him what I want and why I shouldn’t want it. I take a deep breath, trying to find a little courage to tell Harley the truth. When I find it, I untangle myself from Harley and place myself in his lap, knees on either side of his hips. I want to look at him when I tell him this. I feel his arms settle around my waist.

“Harley, you’re the one thing in this world that I want to demand things from me. I want to give you everything. Everything I have, everything I am, it’s yours. But I don’t know if it’s fair to give it to you because my life is dangerous. What if I get hurt? What if I die? That’s not fair to you, to get into a relationship knowing that I’m not going to be here forever.” He rubs a hand gently at the base of my spine and I can see him thinking about what I’ve said. “I know what I’m getting into. I want to be there when you come home hurt, I want to be there through the rough patches, I want it all. I know there’s danger in what you do and I want to be there for it, okay?”

I nod. The fear of the answer to the next question makes my voice small, barely audible. “What if one day you decide you can’t put up with it anymore, that it’s not worth the pain? That I’m not worth it?”

“Oh, Pete, you’re always worth it. You will always be worth it. I can’t promise you that it will be easy, but it will be worth it. I love you and you love me and I think that might be the best thing I’ve ever heard. I don’t know what to say to make you believe me when I say that I’m not going to leave you, but I’m not. I’m here forever and always.”

“Forever and always. Okay.” I place a soft kiss to his lips. “Harley Keener, I want to be in a relationship with you. I want always.”

A grin breaks out across his face. I would sell my soul to see him smile like that even just once. “Fuck. I’m so glad you said that because I want to be your boyfriend. I want to be able to kiss you whenever I want.” He places a kiss to my cheek, my shoulder, the tip of my nose, and finally my lips. “I want to be able to touch you whenever I want.” He rucks up my shirt, tracing a path with his fingertips along my spine, across my hips, and along my stomach. “I want to be able to tell you I love you whenever I want.” He stares at me and it feels like he’s peering into my soul, seeing every filthy corner and dark hallway. And still, despite what he finds tucked away there, he still loves me. “I love you.” His arms tighten around me and suddenly I’m on my back, Harley hovering above me. It takes me by surprise, it shouldn’t at this point, but it does, and all I can do is stare up at him. He’s so beautiful. “I want to spend nights eating crappy take out and watching even crappier Netflix movies. I want to take walks with you in Central Park and go to fancy restaurants.” He leans forward, pressing closer to me, to whisper in my ear. “And Pete, I want to be able to show you how much I love you whenever I want. All the time.” He drags his teeth along my jaw and I feel a shiver go down my spine.

“Harls.” My voice comes out quiet and breathy and it cracks a little. I can feel the smirk that he’s wearing. I clear my throat and try again. “Harls, I love you.” I don’t think I’m ever going to get tired of saying that. “And I love listening to you say those things, but can you, for five seconds, shut up and touch me, kiss me, love me.”

The smirk that he was wearing morphs into a smile, predatory and possessive. And fuuuck meeee, it’s hot. “I think I can do that. I have to warn you, it’s going to take longer than 5 seconds.”

“I’m counting on it.” is all I say before I’m pulling him into a kiss. When our lips meet, I stop thinking about anything except his lips on my body and the feel of his skin against mine.

Later that day, Harley posts a picture to his Instagram: 

[A selfie of Harley and Peter. Peter is laying on Harley’s chest, reaching up to kiss Harley on the cheek. Harley doesn’t have a shirt on, but he has an arm wrapped around Peter and a soft smile on his face. He captions it with, “If the tabloids thought we were in love because Pete had a hold of my wrist, I can’t wait until they see this one”]

**Parley69:** OMG! I’m freaking out. I told everyone they were dating. Look at Harley, he looks so in love. <3

**IronManFan3000:** GUYS. That’s Harley’s shirt that Peter’s wearing. I’m screeching! They’re so cute!

**nmbr1spiderfn:** Harley doesn’t deserve Peter. Peter is so precious and Harley is such a player. I can’t believe Peter would settle for someone like this.

**guyinthechair:** You guys are so cute! <3

vTonyStark: Wait. Why am I finding out like this??

**MayParker:** My two favorite boys. So cute together!

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading <3


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